


I'll Wait (So Lay Your Head On Me)

by Accidentally_Hipster



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Comforting Bellamy, F/M, Nightmares, Post-Canon, Sad Clarke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 09:36:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7262659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accidentally_Hipster/pseuds/Accidentally_Hipster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: “Can you write a bellarke fanfic based off this amazing song called " Little Do You Know" by Alex and Sierra its an amazing song with deep lyrics and its just really great”</p><p>AKA the one where Clarke's demons still haunt her and Bellamy comes to the rescue, as he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Wait (So Lay Your Head On Me)

**Author's Note:**

> “Can you write a bellarke fanfic based off this amazing song called 'Little Do You Know' by Alex and Sierra it's an amazing song with deep lyrics and it's just really great.”
> 
> So I may or may not have literally listened to this song a billion times before writing this to get the *perfect* feel, but it’s probably still bad and I’m probably not doing the song any justice ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Takes place a few months after the season 3 finale (let’s pretend the whole Nuclear Apocalypse #2 isn’t happening and Arkadia is starting to ground themselves and build a society)
> 
> Title from the song “Little Do You Know” by Alex & Sierra

Clarke jolted awake, a scream ripped from her lungs. She was sweating buckets, her forehead drenched. She’d had another nightmare, but for once it wasn’t about Lexa, but Mt. Weather. In her slumber, Clarke saw their faces, the children and parents and all the innocent people that had been murdered. Maya was murdered, and Jasper was still messed up about it.

And it was Clarke’s fault.

Clarke shook her head, trying to push her thoughts from her mind, and took a deep breath. It didn’t work, of course, because her heart was still pounding and her mind was still littered with horrifying images.

A knock sounded at her door, and Clarke swore she almost had a heart attack.

“Clarke?” The girl knew immediately who it was. That low, gravelly voice was unmistakable. “Can I come in?” He sounded sleepy.

“Y-yeah,” she stammered, trying to calm her racing heart. “Yeah, come in,” she said, louder this time.

Clarke’s cabin door opened a crack, and moonlight flooded in as Bellamy walked in. Well, more like stumbled. He closed the door softly behind him and they were in darkness once more.

Suddenly, Clarke felt somewhat self conscious. Not because she was lacking most of her clothing, but because she had tear stains marking her cheeks and crimson tinting her eyes. To distract herself, she moved to light a candle by the window.

Finally, she could see Bellamy, still standing by the door. He was wearing his pajamas.

“I heard a scream. It woke me up,” he stated awkwardly.

“Sorry,” Clarke apologized.

“No, don’t be,” Bellamy assured and took a step toward her, putting his hands on her arms. “Did you have another nightmare?”

Clarke simply nodded, feeling her chest tighten and tears threaten to escape their ducts.

“What about?”

“Mount Weather,” she answered him. Her voice cracked. “They still haunt me, Bell. The poor people that I murdered--”

Bellamy gripped Clarke’s arms tighter. “Clarke, look at me.” She didn’t move. “Look at me, Clarke.” When she finally turned her head up, Bellamy’s stare was pointed. “How many times do I have to tell you: what we did. You’re not doing this alone, Clarke.”

“But--”

“No, Clarke.” It was then that Bellamy put a hand on Clarke’s back and pulled her into his chest, holding her tight. It was also then that the dam broke, and Clarke started to cry into Bellamy’s shirt. She clutched at the blue fabric with shaking fists as she wept.

“Shhh,” Bellamy soothed, and brought his hand to her head and stroked her blonde curls. After they had gotten back to Arkadia after the incident with ALIE in Polis, she’d taken out all of her Grounder braids and cut her hair, so now it fell only about an inch below her shoulder. Bellamy liked it better this way.

Clarke cried into Bellamy’s shirt for who knows how long before pulling away and wiping her eyes with the heels of her hands. She hiccuped a little bit as she chuckled to herself.

“What’s so funny?” Bellamy asked, a slight smirk ghosting his lips. He still held her closely by the shoulders, just far enough away that they could see each other’s faces.

“I’ve grown soft,” she choked, smiling ruefully.

Bellamy thought for a moment. “People cry not because they are weak. It’s because they’ve been strong for too long.”

“What?”

“I read it somewhere in the archives. Some guy from like a hundred years ago said it.” He gazed at Clarke fondly. “It’s true, though. There’s nothing wrong with needing a shoulder to cry on once in awhile.”

Clarke gave him that little smile she does when she’s amused, or content, or thoughtful, or all at once. “Maybe.”

Clarke yawned loudly. Her tears were dried now, and she suddenly felt the pull of sleep tugging her to her bed. Not wanting to move from where she stood, however, she simply dropped her forehead to Bellamy’s chest again.

“Sleepy, Princess?” he asked and Clarke’s heart fluttered a little at the nickname. Then, it dropped. Clarke knew she loved Bellamy, more than platonically, but it terrified her. She couldn’t love him, because everybody she loves dies. She couldn’t have that happen to Bellamy, no. He was her home. Clarke didn’t know what she would do without him, how she would survive.

The tears started to flow again.

Bellamy frowned. “Hey, hey,” he said softly. “What’s wrong now?”

Clarke shook her head. She didn’t even want to think it, much less verbalize it. But Bellamy understood. He lowered his head a little until his nose rested on the top of her head.

“It’s alright, Princess, I’m here,” Bellamy stated. “You’re safe with me, you’re always safe with me.”

“I don’t know if I can do this again, Bell. I don’t know if I can handle losing anyone else.” Clarke didn’t feel the need to explain, because Bellamy always understood without explanation.

He froze where he stood. Clarke thought she felt his heart stop for a moment. But that was all it lasted, a moment, before Bellamy recovered.

“I-I think--” Clarke hiccuped. “I think I’m in love with you, Bellamy, and it scares me to death. I’m not ready.”

Now, Bellamy felt the sting of tears prick his eyes, but he pushed the lump in his throat down. 

“I know, Clarke. I know.” What Clarke almost forgot was that Bellamy was scared, too. The only women he’d ever loved were his sister and his mom, and his mom was gone. He was scared to become attached to someone else.

Except, everyone knew Bellamy had loved Clarke since the beginning. He learned to stop denying it long ago, but Clarke still didn’t know. She had been with Finn, and then Lexa, and he knew that she’d be afraid. He could wait a little longer.

“I’ll wait, however long it takes. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?” Clarke asked, lifting her head to look in his deep brown eyes. Bellamy smiled.

“Promise. Now you should go to bed, Clarke.”

A look of fear flashed in her eyes. “Can you stay?” she asked and Bellamy nodded. He turned her around and pushed her toward the bed, laying her down and covering her in blankets made from various animal furs before climbing in next to her. He kissed her forehead softly before Clarke curled into his side, clutching to his shirt once more.

“Sleep, Princess,” Bellamy whispered before drifting off himself. Clarke didn’t have any more nightmares that night, and she was delighted in finding Bellamy still next to her the next morning, snoring softly.


End file.
